A Tale Of Siblings
by TheIntrovertedRavenclaw
Summary: The Bentham siblings are quite well known, either for the cruel, evil and treacherous acts or their selfless and admirable ones. But little is known about their childhood, the circumstances of their upbringing and their life at the Academy Of Ymbrynes. This story will explore their life, starting from their birth, up until the brothers decide to leave the Academy Of Ymbrynes.
1. Jack

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Welcome to this story about the Bentham siblings, I hope you'll enjoy!

Just a quick info: the first three chapters are going to lack action (especially the first chapter) since they will be about the birth of each sibling and the first few months of their lives, but I promise that the other chapters will be more eventful.

Also, I took the liberty of naming the siblings' parents, since extremely little is told about them in the books.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own MPHFPC, I am only writing this story for entertainment.

* * *

Each story, no matter how tragic it turns out to be in the end, has a beginning.

As for the Bentham siblings, their story began many ages and loops ago, in a small but respectable village in England. Among its inhabitants, a few families stood out for their wealth and reputation, which was especially the case of the Bentham family.

Herbert and Cassandra Bentham (née LeFay) lived in a gigantic five-bedroom mansion within the village, it was one of the scarce houses to have a magnificent view of the sea while still being close to the center of the village.

Mr. Bentham owned several stores in the village but was mostly found working at the town council, overseeing the finances of the town, while the rents from the shops ensured him a steady stream of money.

Cassandra LeFay was no less educated than her husband and spent most of her time organizing debates and having lively discussions about literature, culture, mathematics and physics with other elite members of the town.

In other words, Herbert and Cassandra Bentham couldn't wish for a better life: they were wealthy, happily married, highly respected and admired, had a wide social circle and to top it all, the couple was expecting their first child.

Unfortunately, they weren't aware that things were going to turn sour quite soon…

_10th August, Year Unknown, Bentham Mansion_

On this warm summer evening, the young couple had decided to invite their relatives over for dinner. It was difficult to gather all the family, as the rest of their relatives lived in another village quite far from theirs, but this seemed to be a special occasion: Cassandra was eight months along and was getting more and more tired as her due date approached. That dinner would be the last family meal before the arrival of the baby. The mother-to-be had had contractions all day long, and those contractions were getting intense and tiring, she was starting to have trouble sitting at the table and listening to her relatives bickering over the gender of the child.

"It is obviously a boy! Look at your skin, dear sister, you're absolutely glowing. I had the same skin when I was bearing this little prince," said Cassandra's sister Julia as she stroked the hair of the little boy seated next to her.

"Nonsense Julia!" exclaimed their mother, "She is carrying high, a beautiful baby girl is on her way!"

"I suppose we'll have the answer quite soon," Cassandra said, forcing herself to appear cheerful but winced a little when the baby kicked her and patted her swollen belly, "But I know for sure that it is going to be strong…"

"And absolutely gorgeous too!" the mother-in-law cried, "The child of my handsome son and beautiful daughter-in-law ought to be perfect in every way."

As the conversation went on, Herbert couldn't help but notice the discomfort of his wife.

"Are you quite all right, dear?", he asked, concerned, "You look awfully pale."

"Are you having contractions, Cassandra?" her father asked.

"Not more than yesterday, but they are more painful. In fact, if you'll excuse me, I'll go lay down a bit." she responded.

The rest of the dinner was a quick affair as no one wanted to bother the young couple. It was clear that the mother-to-be needed some rest.

Quick goodbyes were exchanged, and only Cassandra's mother stayed in the house.

"Rest, now, my dear" she said, stroking her daughter's hair, "And change yourself into something more comfortable" she added, gesturing at Cassandra's dark blue formal dress.

"Would you like some tea?" Herbert inquired while he helped his wife unbutton the back of her dress.

The latter only shook her head.

"I just wish to lay down a bit, dear" she whispered tiredly and lied down.

Herbert went downstairs to see his mother-in-law helping the maid clean up the kitchen.

"Do you think the birth is near?" he asked her.

"I would reckon so," came the reply, "I would advise you to get ready to call in the midwife."

Herbert nodded stiffly, he was obviously stressed, and went back upstairs with a glass of water for his wife. He found her softly crying into a pillow, her back turned to him. He sat down on the bed beside her and started rubbing her back.

"What is the matter, darling?" he asked softly, "Are you in pain? I could make you a hot water bottle or a calming tea…"

"It's not even the pain" Cassandra sobbed, turning to face her husband, "I'm scared, Herbert… Did you hear what Aunt Mary said? Apparently, we're getting too old, we should have had a baby years ago and that there could be complications with the birth due to my 'old age'… And the worst is that she could be right, she is a nurse, after all!" More tears made their way down to her cheeks.

Herbert gently shushed her, wiped her tears with his thumb and planted a tender kiss on her forehead.

"Forget what Aunt Mary said, she is just old-fashioned and set in her ways," Herbert whispered, holding his wife close, "We're only twenty-five, my dear, and in perfect health! Everything will be alright, do not fret."

"It's not only that…" Cassandra went on, "I've never been in so much pain during the entire pregnancy, I'm hurting, I'm bloated, I feel fat, I've never had contractions this strong, our families can't think of anything else to say aside arguing over the baby's gender, not to mention that they shouldn't care so much whether it's a boy or a girl, we just want a healthy baby!"

"They're only excited, my dear," Herbert said, "I'm sure they didn't mean any harm..."

"Look!" Cassandra shouted, "You're doing it too! No one understands me… I'm exhausted."

Herbert decided to just keep quiet for the moment and rubbed her back, hoping to soothe her a bit.

An hour later, Herbert was in his study and Cassandra's mother was knitting a blanket for her future grandchild when a piercing scream rose above the noise in the mansion. They both rushed into the bedroom to see Cassandra clutching her stomach, her dress and the floor drenched in what seemed like amniotic fluid. Herbert was by her side in an instant, holding her waist and helping her sit back on the bed.

"S-sorry I overreacted," Cassandra stuttered, "The contraction was so strong that it took me by surprise."

"Is this… is this amniotic fluid? Or did you…" Herbert didn't finish his sentence.

"That's amniotic fluid," Cassandra snapped, her eyes flashing at her husband, "I did not have an accident."

Herbert muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "We may never know, you're pregnant after all" to which he earnt a pinch on the arm from his wife, who went on glaring at him but flinched and gasped when another contraction came. Herbert pressed a kiss on her sweaty forehead and her mother clenched her hand, stroking it reassuringly.

"I'm going to get the midwife now," the future grandmother whispered then turned to her son-in-law, "Stay by her side, Herbert, make sure she gets some rest and plenty of water."

Soon the bedroom was turned into a delivery room, with a midwife, an assistant, the grandmother, the very soon-to-be father and a lot of equipment, from spare sheets to blankets, scissors to cut the umbilical cord and buckets filled with either warm or cold water.

The laboring mother had a wet towel on her forehead and twisted and whimpered as her contractions amplified. Herbert was comforting her as best as he could, rubbing her back and whispering comforting words into her ear, with an occasional peck on her cheeks. Some hours passed, and Cassandra broke into tears as the pain became unbearable. She had to bite her trembling hand to muffle a scream.

"Hold on just a little more," her mother assured, "Did you hear the midwife, sweetheart? You're nine centimeters dilated, you will be able to start pushing very soon."

Cassandra tried to smile, but more sobs came out of her mouth.

The midwife told her to drink some water and try to rest for a little while before starting to push.

A few minutes later, Cassandra began pushing, clenching her husband's hand until her knuckles turned white, while her mother helped her maintain her position with a hand on her back. She gasped, trembled and screamed, occasionally resting her forehead against Herbert's to regain some strength while the midwife encouraged her to push and a maid made her sip water.

After half an hour of pushing, the baby was finally out of the womb and began crying just as the midwife announced the gender of the baby. Cassandra shed happy tears and held out her arms, eager to hold her newborn. Herbert' s eyes were also moist, and he buried his face in his wife's dark hair to hide his tears. The grandmother was shedding a few tears of her own when the midwife gasped.

"Is there something wrong?" Cassandra cried out, alarmed.

"On the contrary," the midwife said with a smile, still holding the baby in her arms, "Your son was born with a caul, a sure sign that he'll grow up to be successful and respectable."

"Our son is destined for greatness…" Cassandra wept happily as the midwife put the crying baby on her chest. Sure enough, a piece of the amniotic sac was attached to the baby's head. The midwife took it off gently and wrapped it up in a blanket.

"Hello, Jack, welcome to this world, little one." Cassandra whispered, stroking the baby's soft skin and placing a kiss on the tiny head.

"Jack?" the grandmother asked, "That's a wonderful choice of name, my dears"

"Our Jack will be an admirable and successful man, he will continue this family's legacy and be a source of pride." Herbert puffed out his chest at the last word, while stroking's his son's back.

_A few months later_

"Look, Jack!" Cassandra pointed at the books around them in the library while carrying the baby on her hip, "You'll come here to read when you're a little older, I can even hope that one day we'll see your name written on the cover of one of these books!"

Little Jack babbled happily in reply and gave his mother a toothless grin.

"Now," Cassandra went on, "Promise me you'll be good, little one, I'll be back in a few hours."

With that, she walked out of the library and handed the baby to one of the maids, before linking arms with her husband. The couple passed the entrance door and went outside just as Jack started crying, balling his little fists and turning an angry shade of red, making clear that he was very unhappy with the situation. The maid shushed him and rocked him gently, before presenting him a bottle which Jack happily accepted and started sucking hungrily.

As they walked, Cassandra allowed herself to voice her worries to her husband.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing, leaving him with the maids several times a week?" she asked, clearly upset, "He seems to miss us, he needs us…"

"Don't worry, darling," Herbert soothed, "What we're doing is perfectly normal, we both have to work and maintain our social status... You can't just disappear from the meetings, you've worked so hard, don't throw all this effort away…" He then turned and cupped his wife's cheeks, his tone kind but demanding and serious. "We've worked so hard to earn a name for ourselves in this village, Cassandra, we need to maintain our efforts, or it'll look atrociously bad. Our first child can't prevent us from being socially and financially successful, just imagine what'll happen when we'll have other children!"

"I suppose you're right…" Cassandra sighed, and followed her husband to the center of the town, where Herbert went to work and Cassandra to hold a meeting about the laws of physics.

_A year later_

Jack was now an almost two-year old toddler. He was quite happy with his life, as all children his age should be, and was excited to learn that he would soon get a playmate.

Indeed, Cassandra was pregnant with her and Herbert's second child, they had been very happy to share the news with little Jack, who didn't quite understand what was going on or how a brother or sister was going to appear from his mummy's tummy.

Cassandra, despite her morning sickness and lessening energy, had took upon herself to start giving her son a proper education from an early age. Thus, each morning after breakfast when Herbert would leave for work, Cassandra would teach Jack the alphabet, the colors and shapes, as well as some basic facts about physics and economics presented in the form of stories. Of course, the two-year-old was overwhelmed by all this information that made no sense to him. He would become fussy quite quickly, he just wanted to play and didn't understand why his mother would spend so much time trying to lay all that information before him.

Jack thought that it had something to do with his father. He thought that perhaps him and his mother had some sort of agreement. Indeed, when he would succeed at remembering something or when he learnt something new, his mother would proudly beam at him, a feeling that was replicated by his father when he came home. On the other side, when he would fail, his mother would look a bit disappointed, but she would try to encourage him, but his father would look coldy at him, as if he had done some horrible deed.

Jack hated to see his mother disappointed.

Even without knowing the name of the feeling, he knew that it was something bad and that he had caused it, and that thought would bring tears to his eyes, which often resulted in his mother setting him down in his bed for a nap, deeming that he was tired and overwhelmed.

Most times than not, he would of course fail to learn whatever was presented to him. The concepts Cassandra was teaching were much too complex, even impossible to understand for a small toddler. She knew that, but she also knew that her son was destined for greatness.

"After all," she thought to herself, "God has decided to make him come to the world with a caul, a sure sign that my precious son will be a great man."

That's why her husband and herself thought that it would be best for their special son to start learning about everything he could as soon as possible.

They knew that it was silly, but each time Jack failed, they felt a sharp pang in their hearts, as if a toddler failing at a task set way too high for him would define his future.

One day, Herbert sat Jack down on his lap and attempted to explain his birth to him. He knew that the toddler would probably not understand a thing, but he tried his best, using simple words and a proud voice, indicating his son that whether he understood it or not, it was something to be proud of.

Little Jack had listened, his brow furrowed, as his father explained gently to him that he got out of his mummy's tummy in an unusual way, and that it was a sign that he was special.

"Special?" Jack had asked, tilting his head to the side, "Good thing?"

"Yes, my son, that's a very good thing," his father smiled and drew the child close, before holding him at arm's length again and continuing in a serious tone, "That's why you need to learn, Jack, learn what mummy teaches you to be successful."

Jack nodded, but he did not understand a thing, only that it seemed important for his father.

That night, as his mother was tucking him in bed, Jack asked in a small voice, "I special, mama?"

The mother smiled and placed a tender kiss on his forehead before starting to smooth his hair reassuringly.

"Yes, sweetheart, a great future awaits you. Sleep well, my darling."

Jack nodded sleepily and placed a sloppy kiss on his mother's cheek before hugging her by the waist and placing his head on the swollen stomach, patting it gently.

* * *

**A/N:** That's it for the first chapter! I'll try to update as often as I can (possibly once a week). Please don't hesitate to leave a review, I would love to know your thoughts about this first chapter!

By the way, I thought that Jack must have a logical reason behind him choosing the name "Caul", so I decided to make him be born with a caul.


	2. Myron

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Here's the second chapter, I hope you'll enjoy!

A big thank you to everyone who favorited/followed/reviewed!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own MPHFPC, I am only writing this story for entertainment.

* * *

_21__st__ June, Year Unknown _

Jack was scared. His mother had been screaming for quite some time now. He had taken refuge in the arms of his grandmother, a hand clutching his teddy bear as his grandmother rocked him soothingly and whispered to him not to be scared, that it was perfectly normal for someone giving birth. She promised him that he would meet his little sibling very soon.

A while later, a baby's cries were heard. Jack got down from his grandmother's lap, curious. A few minutes later, his beaming father came to him and took him in his arms.

"You are a big brother now, Jack," his father told him, "Your baby brother was born a few minutes ago, mummy and baby brother are waiting for you, how about we go and see them?"

Jack was grinning and hugging his father's neck.

"Yes, daddy! Drawing?"

"Yes, we'll bring the drawing, go get it!" the father laughed.

Jack ran as fast as he could, got the drawing he had made for the arrival of his new sibling and ran back to the study, where his father and grandmother were talking happily about the newborn.

"Let's go daddy!" Jack cried, pulling his father by the hand.

The father chuckled and accepted to be led by his son. Once arrived in front of their bedroom, he knocked on the door, before opening it and leading Jack inside.

At the sight inside the room, Jack felt a bit nervous. A midwife was still in the room, and she smiled brightly at Jack. Two maids were tidying up the room, taking away used towels and emptying water buckets. Cassandra looked exhausted and had dried tears on her cheeks, but she looked happier than ever. And she was holding her newborn son to her chest.

Seeing her eldest, Cassandra beamed and sat up a bit straighter, beckoning him towards the bed.

"Come here, darling," she soothed her nervous son, "Come sit on the bed next to me."

Herbert picked Jack up and deposed him on the bed, where Jack scooted towards his mother and new brother.

Cassandra put an arm around his shoulders, drawing him close and kissing his chubby cheek.

"You okay mummy?" Jack asked, placing his hands on his mother's face, but his eyes stayed on his baby brother.

"I am perfectly fine, darling, I'm so sorry if I scared you, it's just that it hurts when the baby comes out, but I am alright now, don't you worry."

Jack smiled and leaned closer towards his little brother, examining him.

"And that's your little brother, Jack. His name is Myron."

"Mawon?" Jack tried saying.

His mother chuckled, "Close enough, sweetheart."

"Hello, Mawon! Drawing!" Jack babbled happily to his sleeping brother and placed the drawing next to the baby's sleeping form.

"Thank you, sweetheart, that drawing was very thoughtful," Cassandra said, and seeing that Jack wanted to touch his little brother but did not dare yet, she smiled and took Jack's hand, gently putting it on the baby's head.

"Go ahead, Jack, just remember to be gentle." Herbert reminded his son.

Jack giggled as he stroked Myron's soft hair. He started leaning down, but his mother touched his shoulder.

"No kisses yet, Jack," Cassandra told her pouting son, "Do you want to hold him?"

Jack nodded excitedly, and his mother sat straighter, held Jack so he was leaning against her and put the baby in his big brother's arms, while still supporting her eldest son's arms to avoid any unpleasant accident. The baby squirmed a little, but he soon relaxed and buried his head in his big brother's chest. Said big brother was smiling happily, but his eyes filled with tears. Seeing her sons like that, Cassandra cried a few tears of her own, while Herbert sat next to them, one arm around his wife, one hand stroking Jack's shoulder.

A few minutes of peaceful silence later, the baby started to get fussy. Herbert took Myron from Jack's arms and handed him back to his mother who gently bounced him up and down, shushing him. Then she saw the tears on Jack's cheeks. She reached out and wiped them with her thumb.

"Why are you crying, darling?" she murmured. Jack shrugged, lowering his eyes.

"Shh, it's okay, you're probably confused and overwhelmed," Cassandra whispered and held him against her, "But know that mummy and daddy will always love you, no matter how many siblings you have."

"Love Mawon?" Jack asked in a little voice.

"Yes, little one, we love him," Herbert said softly, "But we love you too, and we always will."

Jack seemed to calm down a bit at that and stroked his little brother's hand.

"We'll come back later, Jack" his father told him, right now the baby has to eat, and you too, you must be hungry."

Jack nodded and got off the bed, waving goodbye to his mother and sibling, just as his grandmother got in the room, eager to see her new grandson.

* * *

_Three years later, when Jack is almost 5 years old and Myron is 3 years old._

"Come on, brother!" Jack was leading Myron out of the mansion, "Let's build sandcastles!"

"Yes! I love building sandcastles!" Myron nodded enthusiastically, jumping up and down and gripping his big brother's hand, whom he absolutely adored and followed around whenever he could.

In the garden was a little area that had been filled with sand, enabling the brothers to play in it at their heart's content.

Little Myron clumsily walked over the sand and sat down, patting the sand beside him to indicate his brother to sit down as well. Jack settled on the ground and started to fill a small bucket for Myron, before handing it to him and helping him turn the bucket upside down. When they lifted the bucket, the sandcastle crumbled, causing Myron's lips to wobble. He turned to look at his brother, pouting.

"We just need some water, Myron," Jack said reassuringly, "Stay here and I'll get some."

Jack ran to the hose with another bucket and filled it, before running back to his brother and sitting down.

"There," he said, tousling Myron's curly and unruly hair, "Pour some water on the sand, My."

Myron happily set himself to work, wetting the sand before scooping it up in the bucket, which he turned over with the help of his brother.

Soon enough, they were surrounded by several sandcastles.

"Pretty sandcastles" Myron beamed, happily playing in the sand.

"Now we just need to build some soldiers, so we can have someone to protect the castles…" Jack was saying as their mother shouted for them.

"Jack! Myron! Come back in the house at once!" Cassandra ordered.

The brothers ran to their mother.

"Look at you both," the mother reprimanded trying to wipe some sand off her sons' clothes, "You're supposed to look presentable when the Johnsons arrive… Tell Viola to run you a bath, and do not mess the carpets up!"

"We are sorry, mother," Jack replied, chastised. Cassandra only shook her head.

"Did you learn your piano partition, Jack?" she asked.

"Yes, mother, I learnt it yesterday and rehearsed this morning while you were away."

"Good," the mother seemed satisfied, "I expect to hear it when you're bathed and properly dressed for our guests. Now, run along, we only have a few hours before they arrive!" with that, she scooped Myron up and handed him to Viola, their maid and babysitter.

"Let's get you all cleaned, little one," Viola said, tickling Myron and making him squeal, before grabbing Jack's hand with her free hand, "You too, young man."

Once the boys were cleaned and dressed in clothes that seemed way too formal for their age, Viola led them both to the study, where Cassandra was reading a book, frowning slightly in concentration.

"There, much better," she approved when she saw her sons, "Thank you Viola."

Viola nodded and left the room.

"Could you play your partition, Jack?" Cassandra asked, setting Myron on her lap.

"Yes, mother." Jack sat on the piano seat. He began playing a soft, lilting song beautifully, although with a few errors. Any parent would have been proud of their child for playing the piano like that at only five years old, but not Cassandra. Jack was smiling as he played, but his smile quickly faded when he looked up and saw his mother's frown.

"Not bad, but you should be able to do much better, son. I expect a perfect performance with no errors. The Johnsons will want to hear you perform, I can't present them a flawed musical experience."

Jack said nothing but looked defeated and disappointed.

"I've worked very hard, mother…" he said in a small voice.

"Not hard enough, apparently. This is no joke, Jack. You are a Bentham. You must be able to do anything perfectly. I forbid you to play, whether alone or with your brother, for the next few hours. The only thing you're allowed to play is the piano, I want you to master that song perfectly. Do not ridicule us in front of our guests."

"But, mummy! I…"

"I don't want to hear it, Jack!" Cassandra scolded, "Do as I say."

With that, she rose and stalked out of the room with Myron settled on her hip. He sadly waved his big brother goodbye on the way out.

Jack took a deep breath and set himself to work, tears running down his cheeks.

That night, as the parents were tucking both children in, Herbert beamed at Jack.

"You see, my son, you worked hard, but you made the family name proud. You sure have a gift for playing the piano."

Jack smiled sleepily and closed his eyes as his father walked out of the bedroom, turning the light off behind him, while Cassandra did the same with Myron in the adjacent room.

_One and a half years later_

Cassandra woke up more groggy than usual. Beside her, Herbert was still snoring. She tried to get up but found herself dizzy and nauseous. Careful not to wake her husband, she rushed to their bathroom, closed the door and emptied her stomach in the toilet. As she got up and rinsed her mouth, she placed a hand on her flat stomach, smiling and eyes brimming with tears.

She went back into the bedroom and shook Herbert awake.

"Herbert! Darling!" at his wife's not-so-gentle treatment, Herbert opened his eyes and sat up groggily.

"Cass? What happened?"

"I think I am expecting…" Cassandra murmured.

Herbert gasped and placed a hand on his wife's stomach.

"Morning sickness?" he asked. Cassandra nodded.

"Well, that would also explain your uncharacteristically violent mood swings that have been happening lately…"

Cassandra just glared at him. But her eyes became misty with tears.

"Shh, I was only kidding." Herbert soothed, "Congratulations to us, then". His wife beamed and kissed him.

"When should we tell the boys?" Herbert asked.

"Not yet, I need to be sure before making any announcement."

She then got up from the bed, announcing that she was going to help the boys getting ready.

A few minutes later, at the breakfast table, Jack was yawning and rubbing his eyes sleepily. He looked like he might fall asleep in his scrambled eggs. Beside him, Myron was happily nibbling on some toast and sipping a glass of milk. With each forkful of food, Cassandra and Herbert beamed at them.

"You seem happier than usual, mummy," Myron remarked, smiling at his mother. Jack nodded in agreement.

"I am, dear, I woke up in quite a good mood." Cassandra was careful to keep her emotions in check, as much as she wanted to blurt out "I'm pregnant!" she couldn't do that just yet.

"Jack? When is your test?" Herbert asked.

"Today, father," Jack replied, voice still thick from sleep, "But I studied very well," he added hastily.

"I hope so, young man," Herbert frowned, "Your last grade was unacceptable."

Jack avoided meeting his father's eyes.

"Do hurry up and finish, boys!" Cassandra exclaimed trying to divert her husband's attention, "You are all going to be late!"

With that, the two brothers went off to their respective schools.

Jack was attending his second year of primary school, but he always went there his back hunched and a miserable expression on his face: the things his parents had taught him since his earliest childhood had helped him a lot, but the other children didn't appreciate his superior knowledge and didn't hesitate to mock him and exclude him from their games. Thus, Jack had no friends and would spend most of recess and lunch time curled up in a corner of the school's corridor, reading a book, while the other children in his class would be playing. It was a lose-lose situation: if he used his knowledge, he would get good grades but no friends; if he kept quiet, he was still mocked because everyone knew he was not like other children of his age. Jack's grades weren't brilliant, he blamed it on his lack of motivation. After all, it was hard to stay motivated to study knowing that you were going to be mocked for it. Those grades displeased his parents, especially his father, deeply.

More often than not, he would find himself grounded, forbidden to play with his brother after school, only being allowed to do homework and do some extra reading for his classes. On those days, he would not be allowed to have any dessert and recently, if he had an exceptionally bad grade or bad behavior that would "Put the family name to shame", his parents would send him to bed on an empty stomach. Thankfully, Myron was often able to sneak some food in his brother's room. It seemed like Myron was the only comfort Jack had in that nightmarish household and uptight parents.

On the other side, Myron attended some kind of private preschool led by another elite member of the town: Mrs. Johnson. While he enjoyed learning about basic physics and what not (that children of his age shouldn't be learning yet), he wondered why he was not allowed to spend all his days playing outside like other children. And he put a lot of pressure on himself too, wondering if his parents would treat him the same way they treated Jack if he screwed up even the slightest bit. His older brother seemed to be the one taking all the blows (figuratively, but Myron was beginning to get scared of their parents).

When, a few weeks later, Cassandra and Herbert sat them down and announced them that they were going to have another sibling, Jack felt outraged and shocked. He felt like his parents weren't even able to take care of them properly, he couldn't see how they would take care of another child. Myron, being younger, was more excited than Jack, but he too had his doubts.

The next few months were nightmarish. Cassandra and Herbert kept oscillating between two extremes, either being even more strict than usual and providing worse punishments (Jack had to go to bed on an empty stomach several times), or being completely oblivious to the existence of their sons, not even noticing that they would sometimes wander in the streets outside of their house or stay playing in the garden way past their bedtime.

Instead of being excited for their new sibling, the brothers started getting steadily miserable. Myron, whose ringing laugher used to animate the house was barely heard anymore. Instead, the little child preferred staying in his room doing "experiments" as he called them: fixing small objects, building tiny replicas of houses or other projects he had in mind. Jack would often join him, and they would spend hours building boats or planes out of cardboards and carefully painting them, attempting to make them look as realistic as possible.

Jack smiled only when he was in his little brother's company. He felt even more miserable than Myron. He was starting to crack under the pressure of his parents' more and more demanding behavior. He would often have nightmares, that ended up in him dragging himself to his brother's room, sobbing, in the middle of the night, and Myron comforting his tearful brother. Jack didn't dare cry in front of his parents. His father made it clear to him that he wasn't a baby anymore, he was the eldest child in the household and should behave accordingly; which meant in his father's language: no tears unless someone has died or lost a limb. But instead, the emotions that should be expressed plagued the poor child in the form of nightmares. His skin was pale, and had a tired and defeated expression that no seven-year old should have.

On the rare occasions when Cassandra decided to actually take care of her sons, she would make herself comfortable in one the couches in the living-room, gather her sons in her arms and tell them stories while chewing on some candied apples dipped in mustard (a weird pregnancy craving of hers). The boys would listen to their mother's tales, Myron resting his head on her chest and lulled into a peaceful state by her heartbeat and Jack's head settled contently in the crook of her neck. These were the only moments when they felt like actual children, instead of some trophy for their parents to show off in order to maintain their social status.

The months passed in that fashion, until September came, marked with the arrival of the newest addition to the Bentham family…

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**A/N: **I hope you enjoyed! Please don't hesitate to leave a review!


	3. Alma

**A/N:** Hello everyone! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own MPHFPC, I am only writing this story for entertainment.

* * *

_September 13th, Year Unknown _

The baby had rosy cheeks and eyes that were a mixture of green and grey that would surely turn into a piercing green like her mother's later on.

An exhilarated Cassandra was holding her newborn daughter against her chest, shushing her when she fussed and often bending down slightly to place kisses on her child's soft dark hair.

She was delighted to finally have a daughter. She loved her sons, but she couldn't dress them up as she liked or buy them pretty little dollhouses. Even a few hours after birth, despite the soreness and tiredness, Cassandra's mind was buzzing with thousands of ideas for her daughter, ranging from room decoration to extra-curricular activities.

Jack and Myron were delighted to meet their new sister. It was a nice change for them too, having a sister instead of another brother. Even Jack, who had been so reluctant during the whole pregnancy allowed himself to smile and enjoy every moment with Alma. A day after the birth, Herbert snapped a precious photograph of the three siblings: Jack sitting on a couch, holding Alma in his arms in a protective embrace (Cassandra made sure that he was holding the baby right), Myron was leaning against Jack, one arm around his brother's shoulder and one hand holding his baby sister's tiny one. All three children seemed to be in a state of utter happiness state.

Unfortunately for the whole family, that peaceful state did not last long. And the parents were the ones to blame for that change.

You see, when parents have a new child, it's perfectly normal for them to be enthralled by their new bundle of joy. But as always, the Bentham parents took that to a new extreme. While the birth of Myron hadn't diverted their attention from Jack, Alma's birth almost made them forget that they had two other children that also needed their love and attention.

Cassandra and Herbert didn't as much as look at their sons unless absolutely necessary, Herbert was too busy working and would only have eyes for Alma when he came back from work late in the evening and Cassandra could be always found in her daughter's nursery, either nursing the child or keeping her company, reading a book in the rocking chair while the newborn slept peacefully. When her sons would come to her, she would always claim that she was either tired or busy. One day, Jack got fed up with his mother's behavior.

"You're always busy, mother," he muttered, taking Myron by the hand and leading him out of their sister's room.

Cassandra, in her anger, followed them out of the room and into the corridor to scold them.

"Do you think it's easy taking care of three children?" she snapped, glaring at them, "I would have expected more maturity and understanding from the both of you! Especially from you, Jack!" she turned to stare at her eldest, who had a glare matching her own. Even the sweet and patient Myron had a frown on his face.

"Your sister needs me, I cannot leave her for your ill-timed caprices!" she went on, her voice raising.

"We only wanted to show you the boat we made, but-" Myron was cut off by his brother, who had turned an angry shade of red.

"You didn't hesitate to leave me or Myron whenever you could, attending those meetings!" he shouted, stomping his foot and trembling with anger, "Why would anything be different with Alma? Is she so special?"

"Jack Bentham!" Cassandra yelled, grabbing her son's shoulder and shaking him roughly, "I will have none of your attitude!" Just as she finished her sentence, a baby's cries were heard.

"Congratulations, Jack!" she spat, "You have succeeded in waking your sister up. Go to your room, immediately, I don't want to see your face until dinner!"

The furious child promptly turned and swiftly walked into his bedroom, he was just about to violently slam the door behind him when Myron put a hand on his arm.

He turned to look at him, still trembling with anger and red as a tomato, and saw that his little brother was silently crying and looking at him with an expression that seemed to telegraph "Don't do this, mother and father would punish you severely". Jack didn't have the heart to distress him further and settled for closing the door as calmly as he could before throwing himself onto the bed and letting out a muffled scream into his pillow. Myron hoisted himself on the bed and went on weeping silently. Jack had finished screaming and his shoulders were now trembling with what seemed like suppressed sobs. He kept his face in his pillow for a few more moments before sitting up and facing Myron. His eyes were still damp, but he had put his big brotherly attitude on.

"It'll be alright, My," he told him gently, pulling his little brother close, "We'll find something else to do, perhaps we can build another plane… Unless you want to play explorers?"

At that, the five-year-old's composure shattered and he found himself sobbing into Jack's shirt.

"There, there, brother," Jack whispered, holding him tight, "It'll get better, we'll find a way to make our lives better."

Myron could only nod, his face still buried in Jack's now damp shirt.

After a few seconds of silence, Jack's expression darkened.

"I hate them," he muttered, his eyes flashing, "I hate them all."

Myron looked up, surprised.

"Even Alma?" he asked.

"Especially Alma!" the elder brother snapped, "Mother and father weren't that bad before she was born!"

"Don't say that, brother," Myron pleaded, "She's a little baby."

Jack didn't answer, nor did he soften his expression. Myron patted his arm to get his attention.

"Come on Jack, we have a plane to build." he said, gesturing to the small pile of cardboard on the floor, the leftovers of what had been used to build the boat the children had wanted to show their mother.

* * *

_Six months later_

"Behave, children," Cassandra was telling her sons as she put a necklace on. "Mrs. Ainsley should be here in about half-an-hour, you'll manage on your own until then, yes?"

The boys muttered something in reply, looking forlorn, but Cassandra wasn't listening to them. She was too busy making sure her hair, make-up and outfit were perfect.

"Herbert!" she called for her husband, "Do hurry, we'll be late!"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming" he called back and rushed into the hall to join his wife, only briefly stopping to ruffle his sons' hair.

"Goodnight, boys!" he told them as he hurriedly put a coat on, "Don't forget to behave, I don't want to hear a single reprobation from Mrs. Ainsley when we come back."

It was a summer evening. The couple had been invited to a fancy event out of town, and for the first time in six months, Cassandra had allowed herself to leave her daughter in the care of someone else. Because it was summertime, their maid (and babysitter) Viola had taken a few weeks off in order to spend the summer with her family in her hometown. The Benthams had agreed. After all, since Cassandra was at home almost at all times, they didn't need someone to look after the children as much as before. After Alma's birth, Cassandra had set herself the task of writing a book collecting all the information she had learnt during almost a decade of studying, holding and attending various meetings and thus didn't go out to hold meetings anymore.

And that's why Cassandra and Herbert had to find another babysitter from the village. Her name was Mrs. Ainsley and she was an elderly and kindly woman. There was a rumor about her going on in the village, saying that the old woman was starting to lose it: she was talking with inanimate objects and forgot about almost anything and everything except doing her daily crosswords.

The Benthams knew the old woman well, but those rumors made them nervous. They insisted on meeting her for a cup of tea and when they were convinced that she was perfectly sane and trustworthy, had asked her to keep an eye on their children while they would be out attending this fancy event.

Unfortunately, some rumors are true. Cassandra and Herbert weren't there to witness it, but their children were.

Once their parents left, the siblings remained all alone, waiting for Mrs. Ainsley. They wanted an hour. They wanted two hours. Finally, they understood that she was never going to come.

"Should we go and get her?" Myron asked, twisting his hands nervously, "She must have forgotten…"

Jack shook his head.

"It's dark outside, we can't go out alone," he said, "Besides, we can't leave Alma."

And as their neighbors had also gone on vacation like their maid, the brothers had to accept that they had no other choice than to take care of themselves and their six-month old sister.

"How wonderful," Jack spat, "At least mother did not forget to cook us something for dinner."

They decided to quickly eat their dinner before cleaning up the plates and going to check on Alma.

The baby had woken up from a nap and was kicking her legs and babbling. When she saw her brothers, she smiled.

Myron climbed onto a chair to be able to reach inside the crib and stroked his sister's head.

"Hello, Alma," he cooed, "Mummy and daddy are gone, but we're going to take care of you, alright?"

In response, Alma grabbed her brother's pinky and held it tight, until she noticed Jack sitting on the carpet, playing with one of the planes he and Myron had built. She babbled excitedly, gesturing towards her eldest brother.

"Jack!" Myron called out, "I think she wants to see you."

Jack rose from the carpet, still clutching the toy, and climbed on the chair to look inside the crib.

"Hello, sis-" he started saying, but before he could, the baby reached up and snatched the fragile toy from her brother's grip, laughing and playing with it. Jack was less than pleased.

"Alma!" he yelled, trying to get his toy back, "Give it back! You're going to break it."

After a few seconds of struggling, he got his plane back, but his eyes were ablaze.

"Must you always have everything?" he screamed, "Let me have something for once!" and without thinking much, he reached inside the crib and pinched his sister's chubby arm.

The baby's eyes widened, and she looked at her brother in surprise for a few seconds before promptly starting to cry.

"Jack!" Myron exclaimed, "What are you doing? You're hurting her!"

"She deserved it." Jack spat and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Myron got out of his stupor and laid down inside the crib next to his sister, hugging her and comforting her as best as he could. Eventually, Alma's cries lessened, and she fell asleep against Myron's chest. Careful not to wake Alma, Myron climbed out of the crib and went to find his brother, who was sulking in his room, reading a book. He pretended not to notice Myron when the latter entered the room.

"Why did you hurt her?" Myron asked him, baffled.

Jack shrugged, not even raising his eyes from his book.

"Say, something, Jack!" Myron demanded angrily.

Jack slammed the book shut.

"She always gets everything!" he exploded, "All the attention, all the love, and now she tries to take our toys from us, as if taking everything wasn't enough!"

"Jack…" Myron began softly, "She's a baby, she's not doing it on purpose…"

"Go away, Myron." Jack told sternly.

"But…"

"Just go away!"

Defeated, Myron did as his brother said, and went to his room to paint a mountain replica he had constructed, this time without Jack's help. After he had put the finishing touches on the replica, he fell asleep on his desk, exhausted.

About half an hour later, Alma woke up and, being hungry, started crying. That's when Jack got out of his room, and seeing that Myron had fallen asleep when he peered into his brother's room, decided to go see his sister.

"What do you want, Alma?" Jack asked dryly, studying the baby before him. Seeing that she was sucking her thumb, he deduced that she must be hungry, he had heard their parents saying something like babies sucking their thumbs when hungry. Grumbling and muttering about Myron sleeping when he was needed, Jack went down to the kitchen and started filling a bottle with milk and heating it like he saw his parents do many times. When he was satisfied with the temperature, he climbed the stairs and went into Alma's room, lowering himself into the crib. He somehow managed to hold his sister properly, with one arm holding the baby's body and supporting her head while holding the bottle with the other hand. Alma drank hungrily, her eyes fixed on her brother. At one point, she brought her hand up and rested it on her brother's.

Jack tried to ignore the warm hand holding his, but his resolve quickly dissolved when Alma finished her bottle and began smiling and babbling at him.

Sighing, Jack put the bottle down and gently started rubbing his sister's arm, where he had pinched her earlier. He was happy to see that there was no bruise.

"I'm sorry, sister." he murmured softly.

Brother and sister stayed a few minutes in silence, until Jack felt like he was being watched. Raising his eyes, he noticed Myron standing in the doorway, a big smile on his face.

"Nice to see you like this, brother," he said, approaching the crib.

Jack pretended to be angry but couldn't help smiling. Letting Alma go, he got out of the crib.

"She was hungry…" he said, trying to explain his behavior, "And you were sleeping…"

"I fell asleep after painting the mountain, do you want to see it?" Myron asked excitedly, leading his brother out of the room.

"There it is!" he beamed, gesturing towards the magnificent replica.

"Is that… clay?" Jack asked, surprised by his brother's skill.

"Yes," Myron explained happily, "And pieces of cardboard for a realistic mountaintop, and tiny bits of rocks, and a lot of paint!"

Jack was looking at the mountain with an unreadable expression. Part of him wanted to congratulate his little brother for making that wonderful replica at such a young age, but his jealousy got the best of him.

"Jack?" Myron asked, worried, "Didn't- didn't you like it?"

"It's pretty," Jack said flatly, avoiding his brother's eyes.

"What's wrong, brother?" Myron asked, more and more confused by his behavior.

"It's better than the things we do together…"

"But I can teach you how to do it!" Myron exclaimed, "Like you taught me how to make cardboard planes!"

Jack shook his head, but was too tired and confused by his feelings to argue with his brother.

"I'm just… I'm tired, brother," he said, "I'm going to go to sleep. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Jack", his little brother answered as Jack walked out of the room.

Later that night, when their parents came home, they were baffled to see Jack sleeping, Myron playing quietly in Alma's room as the latter slept, but no sign of Mrs. Ainsley.

In hushed tones, Myron explained what had happened, and how they had spent the evening and the early hours of the night. Cassandra and Herbert were struggling to control their anger directed at Mrs. Ainsley but seeing that all three children were safe and sound, they decided to lay the matter to rest for the night and sent Myron to bed.

The next morning, as the whole family (minus Alma) was seated around the table for breakfast, Cassandra decided to congratulate her sons.

"Jack, Myron," she began, "I'm so proud of you, my dears. You took very good care of your sister. I think you deserved a nice chocolate cake!"

The children beamed, knowing it was the last compliment they'd probably get in months.

* * *

**A/N: **I hope you enjoyed! Please don't hesitate to leave a review!


	4. Miss Birdy

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the late update, I've been super busy these last few weeks and couldn't find the time to edit this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy! **

**Thank you to everyone who favorited/followed/reviewed!**

**Warning: This chapter contains scenes of physical abuse**

* * *

Alma, now a three-year old child, was playing with her dollhouse when a loud yelp startled her. Peaking out of her room, she saw her father towering over Jack, with what seemed like a report card in his hand. The ten-year old had a hand over his red and hand-imprinted cheek and was trembling, obviously taken aback by his father's violence.

"I've been patient with you, Jack," Herbert growled, "This was your last chance, and you blew it. Go to your room at once, I'll come to deal with you in a moment."

"P-please, father," Jack pleaded, "Please don't use the belt."

"You deserved it, Jack." his father said flatly, "You are a disappointment, and you deserve a punishment."

As Jack whimpered and slowly made his way to his bedroom, Alma walked up to her father.

"Daddy," she said, "You hurt Jack."

Herbert sighed.

"I did. You're too young to understand, my little princess, but one day you will. I did it for his own good." Seeing that his daughter wasn't the least bit convinced, he decided to divert her attention, "Go and play with Myron, he's in the gardens and he's been asking for you."

Slowly, Alma nodded and went downstairs to the gardens, where Myron was building a little hut for the three of them.

"We'll have our own cozy place to come to and sip hot chocolate," he had said. He was an excellent builder, and with the help of Jack, he had finished building the walls and was now nailing the planks of the roof.

"Daddy hit Jack," Alma announced, standing in front of her brother.

Myron frowned, it was the third time their father had gotten physically abusive with Jack, and it worried him.

Myron kneeled to her height and started talking in a gentle voice.

"I know, sister, but we can't do anything about it." he said, "We can only comfort him and try to make him feel better when his punishment is done and over with."

Not satisfied with that answer, Alma began to cry softly. Her brother hugged her.

"We'll go see him a bit later," he promised her, "Right now father wouldn't like us going there…"

* * *

_In the meantime, in Derbyshire, at the Academy of Ymbrynes_

Miss Avocet and Miss Bunting were in the kitchen, preparing some tea and laying out biscuits for their exhausted charges who had just finished their flying lessons.

"I had the strangest feeling yesterday as I was flying over a village," Miss Avocet began, "It was like… Like a peculiar child was nearby, but the feeling was extremely faint, I couldn't locate its source… I don't know why, but I think that child might be a young ymbryne…"

"Which village?" Miss Bunting asked, surprised.

Miss Avocet frowned.

"I can't remember the name, Amelia," she admitted, addressing Miss Bunting informally, "But it takes four hours of flight from here."

"About that four-hour flight…" Miss Bunting sighed, "Please don't do that again. I know you need to be alone when you're upset, but the girls were extremely worried… They felt quite guilty when you left, and even more when you spent all day locked in your room today…"

"Oh, dear," Miss Avocet rubbed her temples, "I suppose I'll have to speak with them in a moment… I didn't intend to worry them, I just… I needed some time to think."

"I know, Esmeralda," Miss Bunting reassured.

Miss Avocet paused and took in a trembling breath. "I do despise these arguments with the girls," she said, her voice breaking, "All was easier when they were younger… My little ymbrynes are growing up." She stopped to wipe a stray tear on her cheek.

Miss Bunting put a hand on her shoulder.

"Anyways," Miss Avocet composed herself, "I might need to return to that village, just in case what I felt was really an uncontacted peculiar."

"Alright," Miss Bunting agreed, "When are you planning on going?"

"Tomorrow," Miss Avocet answered, "Today, I need to set things right again between the girls and I."

As if on cue, there was a knock on the kitchen's door.

"Come in," Miss Avocet called.

In came Balenciaga Wren, only nine years old and in her first year of training.

Upon seeing Miss Avocet, her eyes widened, and she ran to her, throwing her arms around her headmistress's waist in a tight hug.

Miss Avocet ran a hand through her charge's dark hair, smiling tearfully.

"It is alright, my dear, I'm sorry that I worried you all, it was not my intention." She said apologetically.

"We're sorry, too, Headmistress," Balenciaga said, her voice muffled by her mentor's dress.

* * *

_Back at the Bentham Mansion_

Jack was curled up on his bed, sniffling and his back throbbing, burning and aching. After a few weeks of threatening to beat him if his grades did not improve, his father turned his threats into reality. It wasn't the first time that he had slapped him, but never before had he beaten him with a belt. The pain was unbearable. Jack wished that he could faint or at least fall asleep to forget his aching back. He heard his door opening and stiffened, fearing that his father might be back with more punishment in mind, but it was only his siblings.

Myron walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Brother? What did he do to you?" he asked, his tone soft but laced with anger for their father.

"Belt…" Jack murmured in a raspy voice, closing his eyes.

"Here, try to drink some water," Myron handed him a glass and helped him sit up.

When he finished drinking, Alma, who had been staring silently, climbed on her brother's bed and hugged him, hoping to comfort him a bit.

"Love you, Jackie," she murmured.

"Jack," her eldest brother corrected, "Not Jackie, you know I hate being called that, Alma," but seeing that his sister had only wanted to comfort him, he sighed and said somewhat reluctantly, "I love you too, sister."

Next to them, Myron was still fuming and muttering "What was he thinking? We need to tell mother…"

"Mother won't do a thing, brother," Jack said, "She's satisfied as long as we get some kind of discipline."

"But that's not discipline!" Myron cried, "That's… That's just unfairness, father doesn't even want to listen to your explanations!"

Jack didn't answer but briefly rested his chin on top of his sister's head, before pushing her away.

"Thank you, both of you," he said, "But I want to be alone for a while…"

"We'll see you at dinner?" Alma asked hesitantly.

"No, Alma," Jack shook his head, "No food for me today…"

"We'll bring you some, just try to rest, brother," Myron said, taking Alma's hand and leading her out of the room.

A while later, despite her parents' strict orders not to go into Jack's room or bring him anything ("He is grounded and deserves nothing," they had said), a mutinous Alma sneaked into her brother's room, a handful of candies dissimulated in her dress pocket.

She found her brother crying in his pillow, his back turned to her. Upon feeling his sister's hand on her shoulder, Jack let out a startled cry but soon composed himself enough to shoo his sister out of his room.

"Go away, Alma," he said, his voice wavering, "I said I needed to be alone."

But Alma didn't let go. She held his hand tight and gave him the candies she had brought.

"Candies make everything better," she announced tearfully.

Despite his mood, her older brother couldn't help but chuckle.

"Thank you, sister," he said gratefully, "Now, go back to your room before mother or father notice you're here."

After that punishment, Jack was never the same. He was in a permanent effort to please his parents, either practicing the piano for hours at a time, or spending the rest of his day in the study of his parents, his nose buried in encyclopedias and books of all kind. He taught himself some basic French and Italian, hoping that it would impress his parents. While Cassandra and Herbert were pleased, their satisfaction didn't last long, and they would often start pestering Jack about his grades (that he was improving) again. Jack tried to explain them that he was doing his best, but it wasn't enough for his parents.

"If this is your best, then you are nothing." His father told him one day.

Jack started getting more and more jealous of his siblings. Alma was their little princess, who never got reprimanded for anything (not that she did anything to deserve getting reprimanded). And Myron… well, things were getting complicated with Myron.

"You made that?" Jack was asking looking at a house replica Myron had built for Alma to play with her dolls in it.

"Yes," Myron said proudly, still covered in paint, "I hope Alma will like it."

"I don't doubt that…" Jack said, his tone changing considerably.

"Jack? What is it?"

It wasn't the first time Myron managed to make something Jack couldn't even dream of making, and he did it all alone, without any help. Finally, that day, Jack lost his temper.

"You're doing it too!" he exploded, gesturing wildly at the house.

Myron backed away, surprised by his outburst.

"But… what have I done?"

"You try to make everything better than what I do! It has been like that since you were five years old, Myron, stop trying to be better than me! I am the eldest, I am the best one!"

"Jack…" Myron was at loss of words, "I… I never wanted to be better than you… I am sorry if that's how you felt, but this is no competition, we're siblings, not enemies."

Jack's answer was to shove Myron so forcefully that he fell into the sand, before storming into the house and slamming his bedroom door.

But thankfully, despite their bickering and occasional fights like this one, the two brothers were inseparable. Myron had gotten used to putting up with Jack's bad temper over the years.

Alma, on the other side, was less lucky than Myron. For some reason she couldn't grasp yet, her eldest brother seemed to have something against her, often glaring when their parents would compliment her or pinching her when he was exceptionally upset. While he still played with her, lately he would make some excuse, telling her that he was too busy to play, as if he couldn't stand her presence. She couldn't understand why her brother was so angry with her. She had tried to hug him and apologize for whatever she had done without meaning to multiple times, but to no avail.

"Why don't you love me?" a crying Alma had asked Jack one day, when he had refused to play with her and literally shoved her out of his room. Jack had merely sighed.

"You're my sister, of course I love you…" he had said, "It's just… it's just that we don't get along, that's all."

"No, you don't love me!" his sister had wailed and sobbed until she turned red.

"Alma…" Jack was exasperated, "Alright, alright, you win, I'll play with you and your stupid dolls… Stop crying, you're getting worked up for nothing… Breathe, sister, breathe."

Tears were still streaming down her cheeks, but Alma had calmed down a bit.

"Play with me?" she said, lips wobbling.

"Yes," Jack sighed, "I said I'll play with you. Now quiet yourself."

Beaming, Alma threw her arms around her brother, who forced himself to pat her back.

* * *

_A few weeks later, in the village where the Benthams live_

Esmeralda Avocet was wandering around the streets of the village, hoping that her instincts would lead her to the peculiar child. The feeling inside her was weak, so weak that she thought that she was just imagining it, but she didn't give up. Ignoring the questioning glances of the villagers, she walked through the village her head held high, until she passed in front of a bakery. Obeying her instincts, she went inside. A very beautiful woman with long dark hair was chatting with the cashier. She had three children with her, two boys, one who looked forlorn, and one who eyed the baked goods with envy. The youngest child was a girl who strikingly resembled her mother. When Esmeralda looked at her, she instantly knew that the child would grow up to be an ymbryne. She could never explain that feeling, but she, like all the other ymbrynes, could somehow detect the presence of a peculiar child. It was hardwired in their minds and bodies. But the feeling emanating from an ymbryne was different than that of a peculiar child. It was calmer, almost soothing, which was the exact thing Miss Avocet felt when she saw that child.

Without second thought, she greeted the cashier and the woman.

"Good afternoon," she said, smiling pleasantly at them.

Cassandra greeted that stranger.

"Good afternoon," she said, "Forgive me if I am mistaken, but I don't think I ever saw you here."

"I'm only visiting," Miss Avocet replied smoothly, "I live in Derbyshire, but I thought a few days of holiday might do me good. My name is Esmeralda Avocet." She held her hand out for Cassandra, who shook it.

"I'm Cassandra Bentham," she announced, "And these are my children, Jack, Myron, and Alma. I hope you will have a marvelous holiday here. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too," Esmeralda was saying, just as Jack's curiosity sparked.

"You are Mrs. Avocet?" he asked, "Like the bird?"

Esmeralda chuckled.

"Yes, like the bird." She said, "And it's Miss Avocet, I didn't marry."

"Can we call you Miss Birdy?" Alma asked, eyes twinkling, "Avo… Avocet is a complicated word."

"Alma!" Cassandra scolded, but Miss Avocet just laughed.

"If you wish, my dear." She told her.

"I'm terribly sorry," Cassandra apologized, "She hasn't learnt to keep her thoughts to herself just yet."

"It's quite alright," Miss Avocet assured her, "I am the headmistress of an Academy in Derbyshire, I take care of exceptionally talented young girls and tutor them, I'm used to children."

Cassandra couldn't believe her luck. Almost stuttering in her excitement, she invited Miss Avocet over for tea.

"If you don't have other social gatherings to attend, would you like to have tea with us? My little Alma is quite the talented girl, it would mean a lot to us if she could exchange a few words with you."

"It would be my pleasure."

And with that, the two women and the children went to the Bentham Mansion, where Cassandra immediately ordered the maid to bring them some tea, coffee and cake in the living-room.

"You have marvelous children," Miss Avocet said, sipping her tea.

"Thank you, I must admit that I'm quite proud of them, especially my youngest." She looked adoringly at her daughter. Myron and Jack exchanged a sour look. Miss Avocet had to discreetly grit her teeth not to snap something unpleasant at the mother. Even Alma looked uncomfortable.

"Yes… I am sure your daughter will grow up to be very… special," Miss Avocet said, almost saying "peculiar" but catching herself right on time, "But surely, so will your sons." She was almost sure that the brothers were also peculiar.

"I hope so," Cassandra replied, not looking quite convinced.

Jack, who had finished his tea, put it back on the tray.

"May we be excused, mother?" he asked, doing his best to hide his jealousy and irritation in front of their guest.

Seeing their mother nodding, Jack and Myron slipped out of the room, looking crestfallen.

After a few minutes of discussion with both Alma and her mother, Miss Avocet asked if she could use the bathroom.

"Of course," Cassandra replied, "It's upstairs, the first door on the right."

Thanking her, Miss Avocet climbed the stairs. But instead of going to the bathroom, she tried to find the brothers.

Jack's door was ajar, showing the two brothers playing marbles on the carpet.

Miss Avocet knocked on the door.

"May I come in?" she asked.

The boys nodded, and she sat down on the carpet next to them.

"You sister gets all the attention, doesn't she?" she asked softly.

Jack didn't answer, but Myron nodded softly. Miss Avocet put a soothing hand on their shoulders.

"You're extremely special too, boys," she said, "Never think otherwise."

Seeing that she wasn't going to defend their mother's favoritism, Jack spoke up.

"That Academy…How is it? Do you accept boys?" he asked hopefully.

"It's a boarding school," Miss Avocet explained, "And we usually don't have male students, but exceptions can be made. In any case, you are all too young, the time hasn't come yet…"

"But why?" Jack asked, "I'm ten…"

Miss Avocet paused, then decided to tell them the truth.

"I will tell you something, but you mustn't tell anyone, not even your parents."

The boys agreed.

"Some people are not like the others," she explained, carefully choosing every word, "Some have… let's say special powers that most people don't understand. Have you noticed anything unusual about yourselves?"

"I coughed up a feather once…" Myron said, "But I hadn't swallowed any."

"And I grew a feather…" Jack said, "It fell on its own, but I was too scared to tell mother and father."

Miss Avocet felt lightheaded. These children were starting to express their peculiarities, but she couldn't do anything about it yet. Years could pass before they could even discover their peculiarity, she couldn't take them away right now. It was illegal, both by mortal and ymbrynic law. There was no proof that the child was indeed peculiar.

"Listen to me very carefully," she said, "Must you ever feel dizzy, nauseous, jittery and feverish, all at the same time, it means more unusual things are about to happen… I'll be keeping an eye on you, to avoid any… unpleasantness."

"What kind of unpleasantness?" Myron asked, worried.

"Nothing for you to worry about right now. And I'm afraid it's all I can tell you. Keep an eye on your sister. She's like you."

The brothers were confused but they agreed.

When Miss Avocet left the mansion a few hours later, she made sure to say what needed to be said.

"Your children are very special." She said, "I'll be expecting your daughter at my Academy a few years from now, I would be delighted if you would allow your sons to join the Academy as well."

Cassandra thank her over and over, and she of course agreed, knowing that it would boast their social status greatly.

* * *

_A few weeks later_

It was midnight, but Jack was awake. He couldn't sleep, not with his stomach rumbling and his back bruised from the trashing his father had administered him a few hours ago. To top it all, he was feeling feverish. Needing to drink water, he went downstairs. To his surprise, his mother was also awake, reading a book in the lantern's dim light. She seemed extremely sad.

When she saw her son, she forced herself to appear less disheartened.

"Jack? Did you have a nightmare?"

"No, I'm thirsty, I was going to get a glass of water, mother." He answered, wincing from the pain.

Cassandra herself looked pained when she saw the state of her son.

"Stay here, I'll bring you some."

She came back with a glass of water, a glass of warm milk, a sandwich and some biscuits.

"Eat, you must be starving, but don't tell a word to your father."

Jack hungrily wolfed the food down, barely chewing properly. When he had finished, he noticed the tears in his mother's eyes.

"Mum?" he asked, "Are you alright?"

Not trusting her voice, Cassandra held her son close and carded her fingers through his dark hair.

"I am sorry, my son," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Jack didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. Plus, it was difficult to know why his mother was apologizing… She had done so many things that needed an apology.

Instead of talking, he allowed himself to be rocked soothingly by his mother, her touch somewhat alleviating the pain he was feeling both on his back and in his heart.

Suddenly, Cassandra frowned.

"Jack, you're too warm… Do you feel sick?"

"Not sick, only slightly feverish and tired, mummy," he mumbled sleepily against her shoulder.

Cassandra wasn't reassured, she could only hope that it wasn't infectious… She didn't want a house full of three sick children.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked this chapter! Reviews are always welcome! Also, since summer is coming to an end, I will very likely not be able to update as often as I'd like, there will probably be a few weeks' gaps between each chapter.**


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